Blessed Insurance
by VHunter07
Summary: 221B Baker Street has most assuredly seen its' share of peculiar visitors. Yet perhaps none quite so unique as a certain Mr Smooth, a cure for Holmes boredom but possibly more than our dear Doctor can take! A possible oneshot series. CHAPTER TWO UPLOADED!
1. Honesty Is The Best Policy

**Blessed Insurance**

**Honesty Is The Best Policy**

**By VHunter07**

I have always prided myself on being a man of immense patience. When one rooms with Sherlock Holmes for any extended period of time, one cannot help but acquire an ample supply of the virtue. But there are occasions, albeit rare, that even I am met with person or persons that test my limits. Yet there is only one man, save Holmes himself, that has ever driven me to the actual breaking point of my temper. The fellow's very nature was one of complete irritation and left everyone he came in contact with either in prison or headed for Harley Street. It amazes me to no end that the fellow remains living to this day.

It was on a crisp Spring morning, in the year of our Lord 1889, I believe, when we first gained the acquaintance of this 'gentleman'. I had risen early to draw up some notes from our latest case, (a grotesque affair including a nobleman, a teacup, and a sunflower no less) and found Holmes already up and having his morning pipe. He bid me good-morning upon my entry and at once rang for breakfast. Yet when our good landlady stepped in, it was not with a breakfast tray upon her hand but a salver bearing a stark white calling card. Holmes received it with marked look of interest.

"Who the deuce would be calling at this hour?" I asked while glancing at the mantle clock to find just past seven.

"Not a prospective client, I fancy. This tidy little card gives the idea of one seeking to proffer services rather than receive such." I moved to peer over his shoulder.

"Mr Septimus Z. Smooth. Do you know him, Holmes?"

"No. You might look him up but I doubt it would be worthwhile." He stood in thought a moment tapping the card against his pursed lips before turning abruptly to me.

"Shall we see him, Watson? I feel I could do with a little intrigue." He then dashed off to his room to dress, not waiting for my answer. I sighed and started back to my own room, the idea of a nice, quiet morning now a thing of the past.

"Would you be so kind as to wait ten minutes and show him up, Mrs Hudson? Thank you."

Within the allotted time we were back in the sitting room awaiting this mysterious visitor of ours. And not a moment too soon for no sooner had we taken our seats then the door was practically flung open to admit our guest. He crossed the room in two quick strides and, quite literally, _seized_ Holmes by the hand.

"No, don't rise sir, please don't! Never could stand formality. Smooth, Septimus Z. Smooth at your service, Mr Sherlock Holmes and it is quite a pleasure to meet you at last." The fellow gushed in a distinctly American accent. Slightly Southern, if I might venture a guess. Holmes gave me a quick look of amusement as Mr Smooth whirled to face me. He was an average sized fellow. Well built, of medium height, slightly shorter than myself, with the slickest black hair to which I have ever been witness. Not a single strand out of place, and that proved to be no mean feat given his seemingly great love of movement. His entire essence spoke of a business man. From his constrictive, starched white collar to his spotless spats, the man practically screamed 'Salesman'. Little did I know how true my first impression would prove.

"And you, good sir, must be the inestimable Dr John H. Watson," he said, whilst pumping my hand rather viciously.

"Spiffing to make your acquaintance sir, you've no idea."

"Ah, yes, thank you. The delight is mutual I'm sure," I replied, endeavoring to regain the feeling in my now numb fingers.

"Yes I'm sure," He said, taking an unsolicited seat upon the settee. And frantically waving me to my chair.

"Please do sit Doctor, I've much to discuss with you and your charming friend here."

Holmes quirked an eyebrow in response at his assigned description and offered me a brisk nod of approval before speaking. "Just what is it that you wish to discuss, Mr Smooth? Not a potential client, I presume?" He said with a almost imperceptible trace of disappointment in his voice.

Our guest laughed heartily in a rather pleasant and merry way. "Bless you Mr Holmes, no I haven't come to trouble you with a case, but to assist you in their prevention altogether."

Holmes' polite smile at once shifted to a look of slight mistrust. "Mr Smooth, I am a private consulting detective, the preventions of future cases could hardly be an undertaking worth my interest."

"Surely not, sir!" Smooth said quickly, slapping a hand upon his thigh. "But the cases of which I speak are of a most undesirable nature, yes sir, they're not the solving kind a'tall, no sir. Most folk prefer to avoid them altogether, though it can't always be done in the natural course of life, you know."

My immediate impression was that this strange fellow was attempting to threaten my friend in some roundabout way, though he was making a deuced mess of it. "Just what exactly are you alluding to, Mr Smooth?" I demanded. "If you're trying to-"

Holmes cut me off with a rapid wave if his hand. "Please Watson, let us allow Mr Smooth to properly explain himself before passing judgment on his intentions." He said, nodding for our guest to continue.

The man flashed us both a brief but brilliant smile and rose from his seat to pace before the sofa. "You see, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson, this life of ours is a complicated one. A span of time riddled with twists and turns and all sorts of happenstances. One never can tell when things will run amuck and afoul. Life has a way of sneaking up on a fellow and catching him all unawares. And it's never pleasant to be caught in such a way, no sirs, it most certainly is not."

I made a move as if to interrupt but Holmes once again bade me remain silent.

"And as for me personally," Smooth continued, glancing every so often at his reflection in our mantle mirror. " I truly hate to see a fellow man stuck in a rut, truly in such dire circumstances, I do, sirs. That's why I've committed my life to helping folks. Folks such as you, Mr Holmes…and you, Dr Watson. Of course, one man can do next to nothing on his own which is why I've rather thrown in my lot with greater than myself. An organisation Founded in 1688 by a great man by the name of Edward Lloyd, and dedicated to the express purpose of helping poor unfortunate souls that find themselves in basest of situations. And I can tell you sirs, that I am proud, most proud to be a part of this organisation today. And I've come to you this hour, gentlemen, to extend this help to you, Mr Holmes…and to you, Dr Watson. Two of Londons' finest. After all that you do and give for this fair city, the least, the very least we can do is offer our ample assistance in return."

He completed this queer, if somewhat moving, speech by standing directly between us, hands outstretched as if physically proffering some treasured gift. And though I must confess that I was more confused than ever regarding his business with us, my friend seemed to be quite intrigued. He sat perfectly upright, his almost smiling lips pressed firmly against pale and steepled fingers in a seeming attempt to repress some involuntary emotion. His bright eyes alone had followed Smooths' movements and were now fixedly directed at the mans' mirror-like spats. "Mr Smooth, " He finally said, without shifting his gaze. "May I inquire as to with what precisely it is that you wish to provide us?"

The odd fellow threw his hands into the air as if he'd been asked the simplest of questions. "Mr Holmes, you are a man of vision, a man of extreme insight and mental prowess, this I know, sir. But even _you_ cannot see the imminent future!"

Holmes favored him with a slightly amused glance. "Neither should I claim to do so."

"Precisely!" Smooth practically shouted as he re-claimed his seat. "Yet the future comes and with it who knows what troubles and catastrophes. One can't see them from the present but one can certainly plan for them!"

By this time I'd fairly lost my patience with this Smooth character and all his nonsensical prattle. "See here, Mr Smooth, if you wish something from us surely you can simply _say_ it without all this tomfoolery!"

But he waved me off much as Holmes most likely would have had the fingers of both his hands not still been firmly planted against a struggling smile. "You must prepare for the worst, Dr Watson, and hope for the best! Surely you agree! And what with Mr Holmes' business being of so important a nature, me and the gentlemen I represent would like nothing better than to give him…and you as well, Doctor, all the help we can. Certainly you cannot disagree?"

Holmes prevented my answer with a question of his own. "Unless I am much mistaken, you mentioned Edward Lloyd as the founder of your business?"

"Naturally you are correct, Mr Holmes! Are you ever wrong?"

I could not inhibit a grimace at the mans' obsequious tone, but Holmes seemed unaffected. "More often than one might suppose having the good Doctors' somewhat 'florid' narratives as his only source of reference." He confessed with a conspiratorial glance in my direction. "But more to the point, the name Lloyd strikes a chord of familiarity, does it not, Watson? Would you happen, Mr Septimus Z. Smooth, to be an agent of that well known establishment bearing the name 'Lloyds' of London' ?"

"The insurance company?" I questioned.

To his credit, Smooth gave no negative response to his premature discovery but carried right on as if it had been his precise intention. "The very same, sirs! By Harry, you're a quick one, Mr Holmes!" He said with a wink. "Yes, Doctor, you've guessed it, I have come this day to extend to your friend…and your good self, a true helping hand. We see what you do for the mother country, sir, for the _world! _And only want to help."

I fear I was still bemused by his abrupt admission. "You mean that you intend to sell Holmes an _insurance_ policy? Whatever for?" If I'd scuffed his spats I don't think the fellow would've reacted any differently. He leapt from his chair and waved his arms about before me.

"What for!? '_What for_' you ask, Dr Watson!? Supposing your friend here has a high and mighty client that trots off _unpleasured _by the conclusion of his case? **Bang!** He files a claim of false advertising! Or say some old busybody demands a case be seen to that isn't worth his time! **Bang!** A claim of malpractice! What if…in sheer supposition of course…a client has a case that can't be solved? Fraud! An elderly patron trips over the rug and cracks his skull on the mantle! Bodily injury! You never can tell with these things, Doctor! They sneak up and grab a man when he's all unawares! And it wouldn't do sir, it really wouldn't do for the worlds' first and only private consulting detective to be clapped into irons simply because he can't make his case in court!"

"But-" I attempted to interject, but he wouldn't have it.

"No buts' need apply, sir! It would be shameful for them to dare do so! With this Business Owners' coverage I intend to provide your friend with, all cases covered, all expenses met up to twenty thousand pounds per anum! "

Before either Holmes or myself could even _attempt_ a response to this ceaseless tirade, the man had whipped an impossibly thick legal document out of his coat and snatched the nib from my writing desk. These two items he held under Holmes' nose as if dangling meat to a starving dog. I will readily confess to some small surprise that my friend had not tossed the blighter out on his ear the moment his true intentions were made known. Yet even still he remained calm. Seeming almost _amused_ by the entire, preposterous ordeal.

With an quick, silent laugh Holmes stood hastily. He nearly bowled our guest over backward before moving to the open window to glance down into the busy street below. It was some minutes before he turned once more to face us.

"Ah, Mr Smooth, " He began, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. "You are by far the most persuasive salesman with which I have yet had the pleasure of conversing. And without doubt your words hold merit and your product, worth. Still, I do not fancy that we will be making use of your services presently. Nevertheless, I thank you for your time and assure you that it was well spent. Now, if you will allow me to wish you a very pleasant morning?" He then took his long-stemmed pipe from the rack, took his chair, drew his knees up to his chin and commenced smoking as if our early guest would simply evaporate upon dismissal.

For a moment I thought Smooth would protest this rapid release, so shocked was the look over his face. But no sooner had I prepared myself to intercept him that he broke into a broad smile and stuffed the pen and unsigned policy back into his inside coat pocket. I gave a sigh of relief for it was far too early an hour for hostility.

"I'm no fool, Mr Holmes. I can see when a mans' made up his mind and I know better than to try and change one such as yours…for now anyway." Said he good-naturedly while taking his hat and stick from the side table as I moved to show him out. "But sirs, time brings change and change takes time and both are friends of mine. Until next we meet, lads!"

He finished with a bold wink and went off whistling merrily. No sooner had I closed the sitting room door that I was treated to a severe bout of laughter from across the room. "What a fellow, eh, Watson?" Holmes exclaimed while dashing back to the window.

I joined him in watching Mr Septimus Z. Smooth saunter down Baker Street swinging that cane of his rather wildly. "Yes, what an infernal nuisance!" I said before ringing the bell for our, now very _late_, breakfast.

"You found him bothersome, old fellow?"

" 'Bothersome' is not quite adequate a description. I can _not_ imagine why the deuce you let him go on for so long."

Holmes gave a slight shrug. "You know how very bored I've been these past few days. Septimus Smooth was simply an ideal diversion…if only a temporary one."

"I can think of a great many more interesting things with which to divert oneself." I replied with no small amount of sincerity.

"Perhaps." My friend conceded. "But he was rather amusing, even you must admit."

I was given no opportunity for rebuttal as our good landlady entered just then with a heavy laden tray. It was not until after breakfast that the subject was again broached when I retreated to my desk, where a most alarming incident awaited my discovery. My inkwell was most conspiratorially missing its' partner. "Holmes!"

"What is it?"

"That blasted insurance charlatan stole my _best_ pen!" Holmes laughter did nothing to cool my temper. "Why, that thief! I'll press charges, Holmes, I assure you! What sort of man would take anothers, anothers _pen_ of all things!? What on-"

"I wouldn't exert a great deal of concern, Watson, were it my loss." Holmes said, returning to the agony column he'd been studiously perusing.

"And why not?"

"I have little doubt that we've seen the last of Mr Septimus Z. Smooth…very little doubt indeed."

* * *

_Hi there everyone! I know its been forever since I've posted anything, but hey...y'all know how life is. :) I wrote this little piece sometime ago as a thank you to all me wonderful friends on this loverly SH section that were so kind and helpful to me last year when I lost my job. It was a stressful time and it was only due to the grace of God and everyones' support that I managed to keep smiling. So, a HUGE thanks to:_ **WestronWynde, Runa93, Pyrocrastinator, chuxter, FoggyKnight, Chewing Gum, Kaytori, Kadel, Elizabeth Arian, pebbles66, Jenz127, Velvet Green, aragonite and Protector of the Gray Fortress. **

_A **tremendous** thank you to my very dearest friend, _**Bowen Cates**_ who started the whole thing. And a very special thank you to _**KCS**_ for helping her get the ball rolling. :) _

_You guys are all amazing. Thanks again so much for everything! Also, please forgive me if I missed anyone. I fear my memory isn't what it once was. :P_

**PS: If anyone actually enjoyed this little oneshot I've considered turning it into series of sorts, so please do give me some feedback! :P Thx!**


	2. You're In Good Hands

**Blessed Insurance**

**Chapter Two: You're In Good Hands**

How soon Holmes lack of doubt was to be justified, neither of us could possibly have known. Though for perhaps the first time in our acquaintance, I should have been delighted to witness him proven wrong. Yet it was not to be.

No more than a fortnight had passed before my friend was at last presented with a much coveted case. One which even he himself credited with the means by which to test his mettle. It was a most fascinating business involving a rather high name in England and idiomatic bride. But I shall hold back the details for another time and place.

One dreary afternoon found me alone in Baker Street, Holmes having left some hours ago to follow up on a clue. I just completed my luncheon and settled down in my armchair with a new yellow-backed novel that had appeared to be of some interest. Unfortunately, the book turned out to be rather slow reading and I must've drifted off for I was awakened some time later by the slamming of the front door. Assuming it to be Holmes, I made no move to rise, but upon the banging open of the sitting room door I was on my feet in an instant.

"Why Dr Watson, what on earth are you doing in your robe? It's practically the middle of the day!"

It was _not_ Holmes. I fear that I failed to entirely bridle my temper at the sight of the man before me. Perfectly pressed suit, ridiculously clean spats, impeccable hair and a disgustingly large, _American_ smile. "I'm afraid Mr Holmes is not in just now, Mr Smooth, perhaps you'd care to return at another time…" I invited through involuntarily clenched teeth.

He sailed into the room as if _I_ were the mid-day intruder, not he, sitting himself down in Holmes' own chair. "No, no Doctor, that's just fine…fine and dandy, I thank you. But it wasn't really Sherlock Holmes that I came to see, oh no sir." He said, offering me my own seat across from him. I remained where I was in an attempt to maintain an offensive stance.

"Oh?"

"No sir, not a bit. It's actually you I came to visit today, Doctor."

I said nothing, not trusting my tongue to prove civil. Smooth gave me a sudden shamefaced look and reached into his breast pocket.

"I'm sorry to say I sort of 'pinched' your pen when I was here before…terrible mistake."

The very instant he withdrew my nib from his coat pocket I snatched it from his grasp, quick to check it for fresh scratches. "A terrible mistake indeed, Mr Smooth. I must say I'd considered pressing charges against you for the theft…but Holmes insisted otherwise." I admitted, replacing the pen in its stand.

Smooth put a hand over his heart in a most melodramatic gesture. "How good, how _very_ good of Mr Holmes! I knew from the start he was treasure! A real treasure, sir! You're a lucky man, Dr Watson to call him friend, a lucky man to be sure."

I ignored his outlandish talk and attempted to steer the conversation towards his departure. "Yes well…I thank you for returning my pen and-"

"Oh no Doctor! Offer me no thanks I beg you! Such praises would only cause the guilt upon me to spread like flames in a cornfield! To think that I, a supposed helper of men, a benefactor if you will, to think that I could stoop so low as to…no! I can't say it. It is painful to even think of it. Let's just allow bygones to pass us by and continue our friendship as it were."

I must confess I was somewhat taken aback by his over-stressed remorse. "I wouldn't say it was as bad as all that, Mr Smooth. A simple, understandable mistake. No need to speak on it further."

He practically leapt forward in his chair and grasped my hand with a fervour that gave me quite a start.

"How kind, how inestimably good-hearted of you, Dr Watson! I will never till I perish forget your humanity. You, in all probability spent a sleepless night, pacing to and fro in your boudoir, wondering to whence your best pen had vanished, and here you forgive me as if it twere nothing a' tall. You must love it a great deal, Doctor."

I was now growing desperate. "It's a fine pen to be sure. Haven't you some-"

"No doubt! Took up with passion to set down the greatest literatures of our day! Why, its chills me to think of it. I'll bet my life it's etched any number of cataclysmic events! From the death toll of a murders' knife, to the proper prescription for the cold of a babe-in-arms. No doubt you've seen a great many things in your professions, Doctor, a great many. Tell me, no appointments today? All is well in the thriving metropolis?"

His quick change of topic quite threw me. I'd been so lost in my own thoughts of how I could be rid of this incommodious nuisance I'd hardly noticed when he stopped for breath. "Why I…er, no that is to say, this is my day off."

Smooth slapped his hand down upon the perfect crease of his trousers. "And you deserve it, Doctor, you truly do. Toiling day after night, scraping up a bare living in such a worthy profession. It's a pure wonder they haven't bishoped you yet, really!"

I blinked once or twice in an attempt to piece together his prattle. "Would you happen to mean..._knighted_, Mr Smooth?"

"And that too! But however do you do it, Dr Watson? Helping all those men, women and little folk, and getting next to nothing thanks? Sure they offer a mere pittance but honestly, between gentlemen and friends such as ourselves, for I do fondly hope that is what we've become, between us, all must admit that the work itself is not booming."

I shifted rather uncomfortably, wondering when in blazes Holmes would be returning. "I suppose it's not the most affluent of practices, but I do fairly well."

"No doubt, Doctor! No doubt! But how tiring, how utterly flabbergasting it must be! To work night and day for the people! No doubt you get quite a few cases that aren't even worth your _inestimable_ time! Such nonsense, I tell you. It's a wonder anyone bothers to practice medicine anymore. Tell me, Dr Watson, do you get many of those?"

I took my seat with a sudden resignation. "Many of 'whats', Mr Smooth? I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean."

Smooth shook his head slowly, clicking his tongue in almost a reprimanding manner. "Poor poor Doctor. So wearied he can scarcely remain on the lookout. Tis a pity!"

"I beg-"

"Oh please don't, Doctor! Truly not necessary, I assure you. But what I meant was, do you have many folk who, by no fault of yours naturally, who come to you and can't be helped? Those sort of folk who not even the angel Gabriel himself could satisfy?"

"Well, I suppose it's impossible to please everyone. There have been a few such patients. Most were never ill at the outset." I admitted casually.

"Precisely! They take advantage of you, Dr Watson! It's disgraceful!"

The fellow suddenly leapt from his chair and began to pace around the room quite viciously. "Distasteful! Dishonourable! Quite bad."

"Well, it's the mark of the profession, sir. No work is without its deficiencies."

"A good mind to take, Doctor! A very good true-blue way of thinking! But see here, sir, you may have to stand for such disannulling behaviour, but I, sir, do _not._"

"That's very fortunate for you, Mr Smooth. But if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid-"

"Oh no, Dr Watson!" The man stopped immediately in front of me and threw his hands into the air. "You need not seek excuses! Never! For I am prepared to be your, your _guide_, if you will, your alleviator. I am here, today, this moment to help you through these desperate times. When all hope seems lost and the publics' demands weigh so upon one that one feels flattened, I shall act your helping hand."

Somehow I knew what was to follow. I started to stop him but it was far too late. Out flashed the legal document of impossible breadth and up came my _same_ pen from the desk.

"Here have I your salvation!" The madman shouted, rattling the beakers across the room. "This Professional Liability Coverage with a blanketed Stop Loss program will guarantee your nights no longer sleepless!"

I rose from my chair. "Mr Smooth."

"It provides extensive coverage for employment lawsuits, discrimination complaints-"

I took a step forward. "Mr Smooth."

"Modification expenses, locum tenens coverage-"

I took yet another step. "Mr Smooth."

"But it is not for everyone! And no signature should be stretched across paper with pen and ink unless great thought and deliberation has been taken. This, I can clearly see is what you should like to do, Dr Watson. Have no fear! I shall return, perhaps tomorrow? Yes! And hand over this immeasurable coverage to you then!"

Smooth had managed to back his way to the door and had opened it before I blocked his way. "Oh no you don't, Mr Septimus Z. Smooth! You're not making off with my pen a second time! Once bitten twice shy!"

He gave me a look of utter innocence. "I've not bitten you, my good man. And neither have I the pen of your hearts desire. I left it over there upon your desk. To be sure, it would pain me beyond words to make the same mistake a-"

I jumped ahead of him, just blocking the stairs as he again attempted to escape. "It's it your breast pocket once more and don't you try to deny it! You give it back at once or I _shall_ press charges no matter what Holmes says!"

He held his hands up in yet another mock display of blamelessness. "You may search me, Doctor! Upon my word I've not touched your precious writing utensil!"

I took him up on his offer, I fear, and somewhat viciously took hold of his coat with every intention of searching him head to toe. By an entirely unknown intention, I somehow pulled the fellow off his feet, tripping him up quite effectively and sending us both tumbling head-long down the seventeen steps leading to my flat. In an act of desperation I managed to catch hold of the railing and stopped myself from striking bottom. My irascible guest was not so fortunate.

Checking for injuries but finding nothing more than a bruise or two, I made my way to the landing where Mr Smooth lay face-down and unmoving.

"Mr Smooth? Can you hear me?" I called, a sudden thrill of fear evident in my voice. If he was hurt badly the entire ordeal could become quite disastrous. The man would have every right to take me to task lawfully in the matter. Providing that he still had the presence of mind to do so. I gently turned him over to find a rather nasty looking gash across his forehead. "Dear Lord.." I breathed. His pulse was steady, his pupils were not dilated, in fact, he seemed in good health aside from the unconsciousness. I quickly rifled his pockets in search of some sort of contact information. Perhaps if I could get him home-

I stopped cold at what I felt just inside the inner pocket of his coat. My _pen._ If the man had not already been unconscious I should have promptly sent him thus. Though what exactly was stuck to the grip confused me to no end. It was a rather small, oblong shaping casing of some sort. Red in colouring and for some reason vaguely familiar…I'd seen one of these before, yet could not quite place it. Holmes had one I was sure, he used it for disguises sometimes…I remembered.

"Smooth?" I called once more, this time with somewhat of an edge to my voice. The ghastly fellow jumped to his feet so quickly that I was very nearly bowled over.

"You see there, Doctor!" He cried, wiping the fake blood from his forehead. "One never knows when one might need such assistance as I wish to provide! Why, what if I'd been dead or worse? Then what? Can you not see it? The shock? The horror? Poor Mr Sherlock Holmes deprived of his dearest friend simple because said dearest friend had no helping hand whence he needed it so badly. Terrible, truly."

By this time I'd lost all vestiges of my temper and what remained of my sanity was quickly following. "Mr Smooth…I may still need that coverage after all-" I took two steps and he ran for his life; out the door and down the street shouting his thanks for my valuable time all the way. I returned to the sitting room in a much more amiable mood than I'd left it. Sherlock Holmes returned shortly after and I informed him of my days' activities, to which his responded with unnecessary jocularity.

"I really don't see what you find so humorous, Holmes."

"I am sorry, my dear fellow. I don't mean to make light of your trials, but even you must admit to the ludicrousness of the entire situation." He said whilst making a futile attempt to stifle his laughter.

"It could have been quite disastrous! Why, if that man had pushed me any farther I might've, I might've _killed_ him!"

"Oh no, Watson." He waved me off. "I dare say you have more self control than that. Perhaps you might've…lessened his tendency to be quite so…_buoyant_. But I sincerely doubt you'd have done him any real harm."

"I do hope you're correct."

"I'm sure that I am. Now, ring for luncheon would you? I've discovered quite an appetite."

I did as he asked and set myself at the table. To my perplexity my friend rose instead of joining me began to rifle through his numerous papers upon the mantle. "Holmes, what the devil are you looking for?"

"Did you take this mornings' mail, Watson?"

"Haven't touched it. Are you missing something?" I asked, moving to help him look for whatever it was.

"There was a telegram from Mycroft, something about my last-" He stopped suddenly with a sigh.

"What is it?"

"Watson, how long was your Mr Smooth in these rooms?"

"No more than an hour, why? What does….you don't think he…?"

Holmes gave me a silent nod.

"You'd better warn him!" I said, grabbing both our coats and hats.

"Mycroft or Septimus Z. Smooth?"

"Both!"

* * *

_My word, this could be interesting! Haha I don't know why I thought of Mycroft as a potential victim but here we go. Anyone have any better ideas?? Or ideas for the future? Mr Smooth is glad to oblige! _J_ Please let me know what you think, should I continue, etc. Thanks for reading!_


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